


Pumpkin Head

by Carerra_os



Series: Harringrove Tumblr Stories [55]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Steve Harrington, Creampie, Headless Horseman Billy Hargrove, M/M, Manhandling, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Outdoor Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Size Difference, Top Billy Hargrove, Witch Steve Harrington
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28222374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carerra_os/pseuds/Carerra_os
Summary: Headless Horseman Billy and his witchy partner having some fun in the pumpkin patch.-"You have to stop throwing your heads at people. I spend a lot of time working on those pumpkins." Steve pouts, he turns away from Billy, stepping out of his space,  ball of light coming up from his hand as he squats down to inspect the nearby pumpkins. "You got to stop it." Steve insists again when Billy drops a hand to his shoulder, silent, always so silent without a mouth to speak. "Going to make a rat for you next time." Steve jokes, he has done it before, made it look like splinter from the ninja turtles once, Billy had not been pleased.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Harringrove Tumblr Stories [55]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673560
Comments: 9
Kudos: 83





	Pumpkin Head

**Pumpkin Head**

Steve has been working at the Drunken Pumpkin since before there was a town built up around it, when it was just an inn in the middle of nowhere. The place has had several remodels over the centuries, keeping up with the town aesthetic but it remains mostly the same. It is just a bar these days, the space upstairs instead turned into small apartments that the staff can rent. Steve himself does not live at the bar, has a cabin he shares with Billy in the woods a short distance from the town line, where houses make way to forest and farmland. 

Steve usually works during the day but the closer they get to Halloween the busier the place gets and the more night shifts Steve ends up taking, everyone coming to town for haunted attractions and monster sightings. Some are authentic, others are the town residents putting on a show, it helps protect those that are actually members of the supernatural community, helps them to remain hidden. They are well into October now and Steve has two more hours on his shift before he can call it a night.

Steve moves around the place waiting tables so Robin can hide behind the bar, more likely to kill someone if they grab her ass than Steve. Steve curses under his breath, narrowly catching a pitcher that slips from his hands when a new group comes in, covered in stringy orange pulp and pumpkin flesh. They are rowdy and bitching at one another as they make their way to the bar, proclaiming loudly that they have seen the headless horseman. Steve and Robin share a look across the room and she nods her head toward the door, Steve mouthing ‘thank you’ at her as he heads out, Carol is working the floor too so it is not like he is leaving Robin at a real disadvantage. 

Steve heads toward the pumpkin farm near his cabin, knowing he will find Billy there. This is not the first time Billy has thrown pumpkins at tourists, they have been together for centuries and Billy is just as hot headed now as he had been when he still had his head. Steve had not made the decision to keep Billy alive in this way, did not bind them together, there had been a bloody battle and both of them had been gravely injured. Max and Dustin made the choice. Billy had been a sulky mess those first few decades after losing his head and Steve missed it too, missed hearing Billy speak, missed his long blond hair and his ocean blue eyes, he still misses all of it. He only ever gets to see Billy’s face on Samhain now when the veil is thin but he is never not thankful that Billy is still with him.

There is not a lot of lighting at the pumpkin patch, just a few sparse lights from the nearby road a good distance away, the moon is the only thing allowing Steve to see as he walks through the rows and rows of pumpkins. Steve stops when he spots Billy coming out of the dark, glad to see he left Crosby at home, Steve is pretty sure that horse is always judging him. Billy is bigger than he was when he was alive, a side effect of whatever Max and Dustin did to keep him alive. Even without his head he towers over Steve as he steps into his space.

"You threw another one of your heads at tourists!" Steve yells frowning up at where Billy’s head would be if he had one, usually he wears the pumpkins Steve carves for him, the one Steve made most recently nowhere in sight. When Billy had first come to terms with his predicament it had just been to help him adjust, told people where their eyes were supposed to be looking.

Steve is pretty sure the only reason after all of this time that Billy keeps using the pumpkins is because he likes to chuck them at people when he gets annoyed. Steve spends a lot of time carving Billy's likeness into them though, he has gotten really good at it. Steve tried to appease Billy with just painting them and at one point after Billy threw one too many and staples had been invented he just started sticking copies of his likeness to them. Billy gets all broody when he does that though, knocks the pumpkins off the table, refuses to wear them out, stomps around the house until Steve gives in and carves a new one for him. 

"You have to stop throwing your heads at people. I spend a lot of time working on those pumpkins." Steve pouts, he turns away from Billy, stepping out of his space, ball of light coming up from his hand as he squats down to inspect the nearby pumpkins. "You got to stop it." Steve insists again when Billy drops a hand to his shoulder, silent, always so silent without a mouth to speak. "Going to make a rat for you next time." Steve jokes, he has done it before, made it look like splinter from the ninja turtles once, Billy had not been pleased.

"Dammit Billy!" Steve hisses when a big booted foot stomps on the pumpkin he was just looking at splattering him in the process, the light coming from his hand dying out in his surprise. Billy has no problem expressing his displeasure without words. 

Steve tries to move away from the mess but then Billy gets a hand on the back of his neck and he is being pushed forward, ass up, face down against the dirt. "I was joking, no!" Steve insists, not that Billy will believe him. "You're such an asshole." Steve whines as Billy drops to his knees behind him, hand on the back of his neck keeping him down as more pumpkin guts seep into his clothes, his other hand ripping Steve’s pants down, the fabric tearing as Billy does not waste the effort to unbutton them.

"Dammit Billy!" Steve shouts, seriously this is the third pair of pants he has ripped in haste this week, Steve is shit at mending spells and Robin always teases him when he begs her to fix them. Billy is not really listening though, he knows Steve is not saying no to the important part, if he were Billy would be off him in a second just like always when Steve means no to sex, which is not often. Despite being alive for centuries now Steve’s sex drive has not gone down much and he is just as into being manhandled by Billy now as he was when Billy could still let filth spill from his mouth while doing it. His cock hanging heavy and hard between his thighs, drooling a little puddle of pre into the dirt is a testament to that.

Steve would protest about fucking out in the open but they are always fucking out in the open, he cannot remember the last time he did not end up with leaves in his hair or dirt on his knees. Billy loves fucking Steve out in the open and Steve might protest at times but he is into it to, never fails to have his dick hard in seconds. What Steve does not love is all the dirt and the pumpkin guts seeping into his clothes. Billy’s favorite place to push him to the ground and fuck him is this stupid pumpkin patch and one of these Samhain nights when Billy can actually speak Steve is going to remember to ask him why. You would think being forced to use a pumpkin for a head would leave Billy wanting a change of location but no he never gets tired of the pumpkin patch.

Steve squirms trying to edge away from the smashed pumpkin but Billy’s hand tightens and Steve pants, fingers digging into the dirt as Billy’s other hand palms his ass. Steve whines as Billy pulls his cheek to the right, thumb brushing against his rim, Billy pressing a little more firmly just to hear that noise again. “Billy” Steve whines again as the thumb circles, his rim fluttering, and he tries to shake his hips, tries to press back against it but Billy’s hold on the back of his neck is firm. 

Steve gives an annoyed huff, loose dirt shooting a short distance away from him as he pouts. Billy shifts, chest covering Steve’s back and he can feel Billy’s clothed erection pressing against his naked ass. Steve wiggles his ass as much as he can, a little shocked moaning laugh coming when Billy slaps his ass without warning. 

Steve is distracted by Billy’s bulge pressing against him, so it takes him a few minutes to register the hand by his face waving. Steve knows exactly what that gesture means when they are pressed together like this. He holds his hand out focusing on the little bottle of lube in the pocket of his tattered trousers discarded somewhere behind them. It takes a minute, Steve once again getting distracted as Billy rolls his hips against Steve ass, the fabric of his jeans rough against Steve’s bare skin. Steve crows triumphantly when the little bottle shoots across the distance and slaps against his hand, and Billy snatches it up.

Billy is kind of like a heater and while the weather has not gotten too cold, there is still a chill in the air and when Billy pulls back his hands leaving Steve, he finally takes notice of it. Steve shivers and whines he hates the cold, will not let Billy push him to the ground when snow is covering it. Billy’s long jacket drops over him, warm and smelling like pumpkins and the cologne Billy uses, of fields full of growing plants and the fire that is always burning in the cabin.

Steve cannot see with the coat covering him, light coming from around his legs as Billy flips the end of the coat up so he can get at Steve’s ass, big palms stroking Steve’s ass before the distinct sound of a cap popping. Steve hisses out an “Asshole” as Billy drips cold lube down his crack, not bothering to warm it up between his palms first. Steve hisses again, dick swinging as it gives a kick, pre dripping as Billy pinches the sensitive skin at the inside of his thigh before trailing his hand up. 

Steve squirms, cheek pressing deeper into the dirt, left eye clenched tight to keep any of it from getting in, it has happened before and he would rather not have a repeat of that experience, it is a real mood killer. His fingers clench in the dirt, softened form the till and getting under his nails as Billy trails his fingers along his crack brushing softly over Steve’s rim, teasing. “Billy.” Steve says annoyed, he lifts one foot pressing it against the meat of Billy’s thick thigh, lifting and pressing again when Billy continues to tease. 

Billy catches Steve by the ankle and pushes his foot back down and Steve would definitely start complaining but then Billy presses one thick finger into him and it dies on his lips, he just sighs instead as Billy gives him what he wants. The thumb of Billy’s other hand caresses the skin of his ankle as he works a finger in and out of Steve, some days Billy likes to draw it out, make Steve beg but not when they are in the field, not this close to Halloween when there are more tourists around. Billy has a second finger in Steve in no time, scissoring and going right for his prostate with a practiced ease.

Steve claws at the dirt, pressing back against Billy’s fingers. “Faster.” Steve demands and Billy does not make him beg, moves his hand faster, fingers pistoning in and out of Steve, pressing against Steve’s prostate. Steve shouts a complaint when Billy’s hand slows again, his dick flushed and glistening where the moonlight shines between their bodies, he was getting really close with all of that attention to his prostate. Steve groans as Billy slaps his ass hard and presses a third finger into him.

Three quickly turns to four, Steve making little huffing groaning moans into the ground, a little puddle of mud forming from the drool sliding from his lips. Billy brushes against his prostate on every other press in, other hand tight on the back of Steve’s thigh, thumb caressing the soft flesh of his taint as he keeps him from thrusting back and getting more than Billy wants to give him. Billy pulled his hand free, two lube coated fingers tapping at the base of his spine, a silent question.

“Yeah Billy, ready, so fucking ready.” Steve says as Billy shifts him, the lube bottle pressing against his rim and if Steve were in his right mind he would have something to say about it but he is not, he is all foggy brained by lust. Billy squirts lube directly into him, a shocked gasp ringing from Steve at the cold feel, the fingers tightening around his thigh keeping him from pulling too far away. 

Some still escapes, dribbles down his taint to slide over his balls as Billy tosses the bottle somewhere carelessly. Steve hears it hit something, probably denting a pumpkin and it is a good thing they own this patch of land or he knows they would be getting shit from the farmer who maintains it. He will probably still hear about it if they do not remember to grab the bottle. Steve repeats ‘ _ Grab the bottle’ _ a few times in hopes that he will not forget later, he has had one to many awkward conversations with the man as is.

The press of Billy’s cock at his rim washes those thoughts away and Steve is right back in the here and now. Billy’s cock has always been thick, thicker than Steve’s, but after the magic the kids work into him, it like everything else is bigger. Four fingers is barely enough of a stretch, does not really compare to the girth of Billy. He always gets Steve all horny and pliant before pressing in, knows it is the only way he can without hurting Steve. They can never have a proper quickie, too much prep needed first. 

Steve likes a good stretch but his cock still starts to flag, always does until he adjusts. It is just a lot and that little puddle gets worse, caking mud into his pours as Billy keeps pressing in. One hand petting at Steve’s back over the coat, the other on the ground near Steve’s head in easy reach so Steve can grab for it if he needs Billy to stop but cannot get the words out. He does not need Billy to stop, breathe a little shaky as Billy bottoms out.

Billy does not move for a long few minutes, giving Steve’s body the time it needs to adjust before sliding a hand down and around, thick fingers stroking over Steve’s cock. Billy does not start moving until Steve is moaning again, cock hard and leaking in his hand. Steve starts rolling his hips as best he can, silently asking for more and Billy does not deny him.

Steve feels too hot, dirty fingers tugging at the coat trying to get it off as Billy pulls out. It is ripped away from his face, pushed to the side, one arm still stuck between them as Billy presses back in, Steve moaning as he sucks in fresh air. Billy’s hand goes back to his cock as he really starts thrusting. Steve pants and moans into the dirt as Billy’s thick cock slides in and out of him, it hits his prostate on every stroke too big to miss it. 

Steve never lasts long like this, something about the press of the dirty under his knees, the crisp fall air, the someone could see aspect of it all making heat pool in his stomach quickly. Billy never last long either, gets off just as quickly as Steve in this stupid pumpkin patch because it is always here. Billy’s hand strokes him faster as he slams into him harder, making Steve scoot across the dirt, the puddle smearing mud into his neck and chest as he slides. 

Pumpkin guts are really in his hair now, a seed digging into his cheek but he cannot really focus on that, not with his balls drawing up tighter and tighter with each slap of Billy’s against them. Steve cum on the next press in, body tightening around Billy as cum shoots at the ground hard splashing up against his belly where his shirt has slid down exposing it. Billy keeps going, keeps using Steve’s body for his own release, hand milking the cum from Steve’s cock until it has flagged.

Steve whines and groans at the too much of it, he is almost at his limit, almost ready to ask Billy to stop when his thrusts change, going from smooth to jerky short things and then hot cum is spilling into him, so much cum, a supernatural amount, it starts leaking out around Billy’s cock dripping down Steve’s balls and thighs. Cum is still spilling out of Billy’s cock as he pulls out splashing hotly over Steve’s ass and thighs. When Billy pulls his hand away from Steve to grab his own cock, Steve just slides to the ground belly pressed into the stick muddy cum under him as more cum splashes over the small of his back. 

Billy’s thick palms stroke over him, playing in the mess Billy has covered him in. Steve throws a hand back, batting Billy’s away when he trails a finger over his puffy rim. “Absolutely not you heathen, I need a fucking bath.” Steve complains tiredly, eyeing the pulpy orange bits next to his face with distaste. 

The wind picks up and a shiver rolls through him and a second later he is being covered by Billy’s coat again. Billy holds a hand out by his face, waving it a little to get Steve to pay attention, a question. Steve takes it in answer and lets Billy haul him up off the ground. Steve wobbles a little as he pulls his arm back and works it into the coat, it swamps him as he bends down for the tattered remains of his pants.

“You have to stop tearing my pants. You know I’m shit at mending spells.” Steve complains, to Billy who gives a shrug, the gesture always a little odd with nothing between his shoulders. Billy moves closer again tugging at a lock of Steve’s hair, an offer this time. “Yeah you better wash my hair.” Steve huffs out, moving to look for the lube bottle. 

Billy scoops him up before he can take more than a few steps, hanging him over where his head should be and walking toward their cabin. Steve just uses his magic to retrieve the bottle, hanging over Billy’s back as it slips into his hands. He starts telling Billy about his day, Billy tapping at him to let him know to keep going when he lulls. Steve cannot wait for Samhain when Billy gets his head for the day, he misses hearing his voice. He will carve Billy a new head in the morning, even though he knows it will likely be destroyed later that night, Billy goes through a lot of heads in October.

**-END**

**Author's Note:**

> https://ghostofjellyfishforgotten.tumblr.com/


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